Chapter Thirty-Two Remi #3
We all laughed, and Gavin ran his fist under his nose as he stared down at the crisp lines of the number one stitched onto the front of the jersey. “I think this is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.” He lifted his watery eyes to Archer. “Thank you.”
Archer’s voice was rough when he answered, his eyes slightly red. “You’re welcome.”
Gavin didn’t hesitate, launching himself at Archer, who caught him with a startled laugh.
He’d given him so much more than a scrap of fabric, more than team colors or a number on his back. Archer was giving Gavin the kind of love and acceptance that Archer himself had never been given at this age.
Healing had a ripple effect, something that could be felt by more than just me and Archer. Not just in gifts or unscripted acts of benevolence. It was the feelings that spread as a result.
It was becoming abundantly clear that I’d need to reframe my inability to be surprised, because this one would’ve knocked me on my ass. Appropriate, I thought, considering that was exactly what Archer had done since the very first night.
Pops caught my eye and winked again.
Archer stayed at the house for the rest of the day and well into the evening, hanging out, watching TV, he and I sneaking kisses when no one was looking.
We made Archer watch The Sandlot because he’d never seen it. A tragedy, in the Sinclair house.
Gavin won a series in Mario Kart, and I came in second, despite Archer’s claims that I was cheating.
Pops beat them soundly in a couple games of Clue, while Archer cleaned house on an intense game of Monopoly that lasted well through dinner (which I had delivered, because all three of them put up a ridiculous protest when I said I’d grill some chicken and veggies).
“You’ve never even tried my cooking,” I said to Archer when he insisted on paying for the food, handing a generous tip to a wide-eyed delivery person, who took it with her mouth hanging open.
As he eased the bags of Chinese food from out of my hands, he gave me a sweet kiss. “I’ve heard about it, and I think that might be enough for me.”
“From who?”
Gavin hid his giggles behind his hand, and Pops covered his smile with an obnoxious cough.
“Hey, I’m good at other things,” I protested.
Archer served up some beef and broccoli and handed me a bowl. “Lots of things,” he said quietly, eyes glinting with double meaning.
I narrowed my gaze, and he gave me a wicked smile and walked off to enjoy his food.
Payback came later, after Pops and Gavin went to bed, and I forced Archer to watch me strip in my bedroom without allowing him to touch.
His heated gaze tracked over every inch of my body from where he sat with his back against the headboard of my bed. He absolutely dwarfed the space, and I smiled, imagining us trying to keep quiet with people sleeping on either side of the house.
“Come here,” he commanded in a low voice.
I ran my hands over my breasts and down my stomach, watching with delight as his expression glazed over when my hands hooked into my lace underwear and tugged them off. “I thought you didn’t want to enjoy my offerings,” I said lightly.
“Remi,” he growled, palming his hard-on through his shorts, giving himself a slow tug that made my stomach flip, “get over here.”
“Take off your shirt.”
He complied instantly, and the stacked muscles on his stomach pulled a whimper from my mouth. There was just enough hair on his chest and running down his stomach, like an exclamation point to just how fucking masculine he was.
It was my turn to wonder if I was dreaming. If my subconscious hadn’t conjured the perfect man and was teasing me with what life could be like.
Not that it would always be like this—hours of relaxing and laughing and kissing when no one was watching, holding hands under the table and counting down to when we could be alone. It would get harder. We’d miss each other.
That was a strange sort of privilege, though, wasn’t it? To miss someone and know they’d come back as soon as possible. To bicker and know that there was love underneath. To walk through the everyday stress of life and know they had your back, even if the fantasy faded in the face of the mundane.
But that fantasy wasn’t fading today.
Today we could bask in how good this felt, and how right it was.
With his attention fixed solely on me, I climbed up onto the bed and swung my legs over his hips, settling on his lap while his palms skimmed my waist, his fingers ghosting over my nipples as he gave me a tongue-heavy kiss that lifted the hair on my arms.
I pulled back, biting down on my bottom lip. “You were so tired this morning. Maybe we—”
He gripped the back of my neck and gently bit down on the slope of my shoulder. “Unless you finish that sentence with maybe we should keep this quiet, I don’t want to fucking hear it.”
I smiled, running my hands over his chest. “You know what I was thinking about earlier?”
He kissed along my collarbone. “What?”
It was hard to speak through whatever he was doing with his mouth, but I wanted him to hear this.
We’d both need reassurance as we moved forward into our new normal.
Mine looked different from his, but they held equal weight.
As much as I loved the feeling that he’d protect my heart, I wanted him to feel the same.
That I’d take care of him. That he was safe with me.
When Archer kissed underneath my jaw, I cupped his face in my hand and held his gaze.
I spoke quietly. “You’re going to be an amazing father someday.”
His eyes stayed locked on mine, his chest rising on a sharp inhale. “You sound very sure about that.”
“I am.” I ran my fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.
“I’ve worked very hard to be both parents for Gavin.
Some days I do better than others, but I’ve always worried—” My voice cut off when tears threatened.
His hands moved in soothing motions on my back.
“I’ve always worried that he’d be missing something by not having a father.
You gave him something today, and I’m not sure it would have meant the same if it had come from me.
” Archer’s eyes were bright with unshed tears, his hands tightening on my back as he listened intently.
“You gave him what was never given to you.”
It took him a moment to speak, and when he did, his voice was rough. “When he hugged me, God, it felt like . . . like it healed a scar I couldn’t see or reach.”
I leaned forward and kissed him just by the corner of his eye. Then the slight wrinkle in his brow. The tip of his nose. His cheek. Between each kiss, I whispered how much I loved him.
Archer gathered me close to his chest with a deep sigh as our mouths met in a long, slow kiss.
“I can’t wait to see it,” I whispered against his mouth.
He pulled back, gaze full of heat and love and breath-stealing certainty. “I’m going to be insufferable when you’re pregnant.”
My lips curled in a delighted smile. “Are you?”
Archer kissed me. “The worst. Won’t be able to keep my hands off you. I’ll worry endlessly. Get you everything you want.”
“Keep talking,” I moaned.
He nibbled along the line of my neck. “It’ll be almost as bad when I get a ring on your finger.”
I rubbed my chest against his and let out a stuttered exhale. “And when we get married?”
“Fucking obnoxious.” He sucked the spot beneath my ear. “Like a caveman.”
Our mouths clashed in a messy, heated kiss, and I rocked my hips back and forth over the tantalizing hardness beneath me.
Archer reached between us, teasing between my legs with his knuckles as he pushed his shorts down just enough.
I moaned, and he quieted me with another slick, tongue-heavy kiss.
“Quiet,” he commanded against my lips. “I don’t fancy getting in trouble with Pops.”
I was giggling helplessly as he nudged me up with a firm grip on my waist. But when he teased me with a shift of his hips, the laughter turned into a soft whimper.
His skin was impossibly hot, and I knew the stretch would be just past too much, especially after last night.
We’d had the birth control talk sometime after the second round.
I’d been on the pill since Gavin and hadn’t slept with anyone in years, and to my shock, it had been well over a year for him too.
He watched with heavy-lidded eyes, his palms coasting up and down my thighs. “We’re going to need a lot of practice before I get to call you my wife, aren’t we?”
“Practice?” I grinned, biting down on my bottom lip. “Oh, you were so concerned with your stamina this morning. Maybe I should go get some cookies or something.” I started to move off him, and his hands clamped hard on my hips, locking me in place.
“I’m having you for dessert,” he whispered, nudging me up with an arrogant tilt of chin. His voice was rough and desperate as I reached between us to line myself up. “Now, fuck me, firefly.”
That’s exactly what I did.